


The R is For...

by Imgoingtoregret_thisinthefuture



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Moral Ambiguity, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original Villain Character(s), Poetry, Religion, Superpowers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imgoingtoregret_thisinthefuture/pseuds/Imgoingtoregret_thisinthefuture
Summary: R is the most infamous man on the globe. Number one on the FBI's most wanted list and talk of the nation, his devilry is well known. He targets the worst of humanity and kills those who get in the way of his doings.But what does he do in his free time?Multiple un-connected chapters, Im just trying to get better at writing. If anyone ever reads this I would really like criticism.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	The R is For...

**Author's Note:**

> First post to ao3. I apologize for any poor gammer, as I am a novice at writing. I might not post any more chapters to this story, as it is not up to par with what I want it to be. Also sorry for using (,) so much, it's a habit.

_It was quite a freeing thing, levitation. To float above all others and look down upon them fills the mortal mind with a sense of power. Like a dark shadow, it curls around your mind and warps it into something that you would have once frowned upon when you were just a feeble boy. No longer will this bother you now. You were weak before, but the chain of morality does not hold you down to the rotten earth._

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Poetry and symbolic writing has never been James forte. He had felt like writing meaningful things out that people would find if he might die could make the population believe that he was a smart man, but the writing gives off an aura of narcissism. James is not a narcissist, as so many psychologists on TV and politicians believe R to be. He is merely a man with a power far greater than a mortal should be allowed to have.

 _Maybe he disliked his poem because he had written the blasted thing in first person?_ The tall man speculated over this for an instant before crumbling the paper into a ball and throwing it into his bin, causing it to bounce off the mountain of other discarded artistic failures. He grunted as he pushed himself up from where he was seated. The apartment was bare and decrepit, there was a reason the rent was so cheap. The cigarette burned couch he had previously inhabited was the lone piece of furniture in the large room, aside from an air mattress laid out on the floor next to it. He shrugged on a red coat that had been laying on the counter top next to the door, and threw on his hat. Maybe a walk would clear his troubled mind.

The street was full of self involved people going along with their day, all unaware of the man watching them. A child sat upon her fathers shoulders pointing at birds. She looked happy. How I wish to go back to a time where such mundane things filled me with wonder. He shook his head as though doing so would rid him of the self pitting thought, and continued on with his walk. The park he entered was full of greenery and joyous citizens. A dog chased after a red frisbee that was cutting through the air like a scabbard might cut through flesh, and a little boy chased after the moving spotted creature. Off to the side of the path James was following, a businesswoman in a long overcoat chatted away into a pink cellphone while a handsome young man stood next to her. She seemed upset with someone on the other end of the call, and was making wide animated gestures with her arms as though the person listening to her could see. The dark haired man watched on, uninterested. The man caught James eye and frowned, put off by his obvious staring. 

James glanced away, returning to his walk. Do not be mistaken, James was not ashamed of his people watching habit and had instead learned to embrace the habit. Sometimes it was useful to keep an eye on the people around you. James continued his trot through the recreation ground though he soon entered a concrete clearing connected to the path he had been walking on. There was a light crowd gathered around a man standing upon a soap box who was gesticulating wilding. He seemed very involved in what he was ranting about. James wandered closer to the gathered folk, as he was intrigued by the commotion occurring. “-HE END! THE END OF THE WORLD, CAUSED BY THE DEITY OF DEATH, THE REVENGER OF WRONGS. THE CHRISTIAN WAY IS THE TRUTH AND HE PROVES IT! THE R IS FOR RAPTURE-” The man cut himself off and faced down to look at James, who had been slowly creeping forward towards the fanatic while they had been ranting. “YES? Are you interested in the way of R?” He grinned like a cheshire cat. Nothing was behind his eyes. James frowned. “Why do you think god would ever sick such a monster upon the beings he created?” The man looked crestfallen. “R IS THE FLOOD, AND CHRISTIANITY IS THE ARK!” He bent down to make direct eye contact with James. “He will save us all, good sir. Even if you are too stupid to realize that.” He smiled. Jame’s frown deepened, and he backed away. No use in angering psychotic who had lost their mind long ago. “Ahem- THE END IS NE-” James stopped listening to the man, and strutted out of earshot. The crowd who had been watching the exchange made way for the exiting man. 

After returning to his apartment, he flopped down onto his uncomfortable couch causing the springs in it to groan in refusal. On his walk back he had yearned to have a piece of paper to write his newfound ideas out on, though now that he had one in his hands his mind drew a blank. The only thing he could think about was the odd man in the park. James was impressed by his dedication to R, though the reasons why he was were all wrong. James- _no_ , R does not kill for religious purposes. He does so out of hatred and frustration for the world around him, and all one has to do to realize this is look at the type of people he makes his victims; corrupt politicians, narcissistic millionaires, serial rapists and so on. He was a butcher and they were pigs, lined up on the chopping block. _No matter how much they squealed and cried, his scabbard still chops them up._ James shared a secret smile with himself before putting the notebook clasped in his hands down. It was much later in the day than he had expected before he went on his walk, and he supposed most people would be preparing for bed right now.

James only stretched out on the dingy couch and closed his eyes. He had been taking a small break before his next slaughter and had been doing research on his next victim in that time. A man named Jackson Delki had caught his eyes on a recent news broadcast. He had preformed a non-consensual abortion on his pregnant girlfriend which had led to her death, and had been let out of prison after 8 years. Much too short, in James opinion. The mans address hadn't hard to find, and James fell asleep thinking of the ways he would dismember him.


End file.
